


Out Of Options

by ahvengering



Series: Sunset 'Verse [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homeless Peter Parker, Homelessness, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Loneliness, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 14:12:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19854856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahvengering/pseuds/ahvengering
Summary: Things are going just fine for Peter.Or, at least, that's what he tells Mr. Stark. In reality, Peter is the furthest thing from fine, and when May goes missing, Peter will have to figure out how to cope on his own without letting Tony find out that his whole life has been ripped out from under him.





	1. Chapter 1

Tony looked up as Peter trudged into the lab, slinging his backpack into a rolling chair with such force that it skittered away across the floor. “Hey, underoos, what’s with the menace to the perfectly good desk chair?”

“Nothing,” Peter muttered, throwing himself into another and slouching.

“Bad day at school? Girl trouble?” Tony guessed. “Just some good ol’ teenage rebellion?”

“I like boys,” Peter mumbled, “and no. I’m just tired.”

Tony straightened up a little at the unexpected information. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Me being tired, or me liking boys?” Peter snarked at him, crossing his arms.

“Both?” Tony shrugged. “But mostly the boys thing. You know I’m bi. I just…I don’t know, I always figured you’d do a big, bold, Peter-Parker-esque coming out scene if you were to, you know, come out to me.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll have to excuse me if I’m a little too caught up in things that actually matter,” Peter snapped, then abruptly covered his mouth with his hands, looking horrified. “Oh god. Mr. Stark, I am so sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo,” Tony said, alarm bells going off in his head at the sudden blast of attitude. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“No,” Peter mumbled, staring at an oil stain on the floor. “It’s not important.”

“Okay…” Tony stared at the boy, even more concerned than he had been before. “Well, you know that if there’s ever anything you want to talk about, or anything you need…” He didn’t finish the sentence, unsure how to offer his support without antagonizing the teenager.

To his surprise, though, there was no ire in Peter’s face. Instead, he abruptly seemed near tears, his cheeks reddening and eyes watering. “Thank you,” he said, in the softest voice Tony had ever heard, and proceeded to turn away to the other lab table, beginning to tinker with a piece of the suit that needed modifications.

Tony went back to the gauntlet he was working on, hoping that it was nothing other than teenage blues. The last thing he wanted was for Peter to be struggling with anything more than that.

…….

“That’s the last of the boxes, May!”

May stepped into the barren living room, smiling widely at Peter. “Thank you! See, that didn’t take long.”

“I know,” Peter admitted, “I just still wish we didn’t have to do it at all.”

“I know, honey,” May said softly, drawing Peter into a hug and running her fingers through his brown curls. “I’m so sorry that things are touch and go right now. I promise, as soon as I can find a new job, we’ll be out of the shelter and in a new apartment.”

“It’s not your fault,” Peter mumbled into her shoulder. “I should be doing more, I should get a job-”

“We’ve already had this conversation, and we’ve agreed that your education comes over anything,” May said sternly, pulling back to look Peter in the eyes. “Between Spider-manning around the city and school, you have enough on your plate.”

They spent a little time walking around the now empty apartment, saying goodbye to the place they’d lived for so many years. May had moved herself and Peter into the little apartment building shortly after Ben had died, citing a need for a new start and a place closer to Peter’s school. It was still a bitter goodbye, though, and Peter found himself with a hole in his heart as they climbed into the rented van to drive to the storage unit.

“It’s only temporary, sweetheart,” May reminded him as they merged into traffic. “We’ll be back on our feet in no time.”

………

No time, as it turned out, was at least a month and a half.

The shelter could have been worse, Peter supposed. For a long-term placement homeless shelter in Queens, it wasn’t bad. He and May had a private room with bunk beds, a shared shower with a stall, and one hot meal a day at the shelter.

Still, it wasn’t exactly great. The showers were nearly always cold, the people in the shelter stared at him with hungry eyes, and the limit of one hot meal a day was affecting Peter much more than he would admit. It was far from enough to keep an average person going, much less a growing teenager with super strength, and Peter had lost nearly fifteen pounds, weight that he really couldn’t afford to lose. He was a little fatigued all the time now, but he told himself it was a small price to pay for a secure place for him and May to sleep.

The worst part by far, though, was trying to keep his secret from Tony Stark.

_Got a cool new project for us to work on. Come to the tower this weekend? Steve’s promised homemade spaghetti. We’ve all missed seeing you. -TS_

Peter had agreed eagerly, texting back a prompt yes, but felt his heart sink when Tony said he’d swing by the apartment to pick him up.

_I can take the bus to the tower! Don’t worry about picking me up._

_Kid, I have a literal army of cars and time at my disposal. Let me come get you. -TS_

Peter bit his lip, humming in dismay.

_I have some research to get done at the library on Friday afternoon, I won’t be done until late. This’ll be easier :)_

He included the smiley face hoping that it would put Tony at ease, and to his relief, it worked.

_All right. Do your thing, spider kid. Let me know if you change your mind. -TS_

Peter let out a long breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He smiled, the excitement filling his heart almost overwhelming. He hadn’t seen Tony since the day they’d finished moving, when he’d accidentally snapped at him in the lab; they’d both been busy, and if Peter was honest, he’d been avoiding asking to spend time with Tony out of fear that he might find out what was happening in Peter’s life. Peter was excited to spent time with both him and the team again. Not only that, but May had gotten an interview for a nursing position that was very promising. Things were starting to look up.

Peter tried not to dwell too much on why he was so scared of Tony finding out that he was homeless.

The joyful feeling began to fade when he looked at his watch and realized it was two hours past when May was supposed to come back from her interview.

It was possible that she had gotten held up on her way home. Maybe she’d stopped to pick up some takeout as a treat, or had seen somebody she knew on the street, or one of any number of plausible, completely okay situations. But, Peter couldn’t help the anxiety beginning to churn in his stomach.

………

Eight hours later, at nearly one in the morning, Peter was on full red alert. As the minute hand hit the one o’clock mark, he pulled on the Spiderman suit, hands shaking only slightly.

“Good morning, Peter,” Karen said. Peter had never been more relieved to hear her soothing voice. “It’s very early for you to be going on patrol.”

“I’m actually-I’m not patrolling. I’m, ah, looking for someone,” Peter said softly as he climbed onto the windowsill of their third floor bedroom, peering out into the night. “May, she didn’t come home last night after her interview and I think she might need help. Can you help me find her, Karen? Please.”

“Of course, Peter,” Karen said, and Peter could have sworn he heard reassuring tones in her voice. “Where would you like to begin a preliminary scan?”

……….

At four am, Peter found himself sitting on the fire escape outside his and May’s old apartment building, the anxiety roaring within him.

He hadn’t found May. He hadn’t even found any traces of where she might have gone. And, when he’d swung back to their room at the homeless shelter in the hope that she might have just come in ridiculously late and that she would give him a lecture on going out patrolling late and then he could hug her and be grateful to have her home…she hadn’t been there.

He didn’t know what to do.

His finger hovered over the call button on Tony’s contact in his phone, warring with himself. After several anxious minutes, he closed his phone and put it in his pocket before swinging off the building, back towards the shelter. He would wait a little longer, he decided; maybe she had been out too late and decided to stay with a friend and her phone had died.

He knew he was making up stories to make himself feel better that his aunt, his guardian, his only family in the world might be missing, but he didn’t know what else to do.

He was out of options.


	2. Chapter 2

Sleep didn’t find Peter until six rolled around, and after an hour and a half of dozing, he pulled himself out of bed for school, dark circles lining his eyes.

When he didn’t hear from May by lunchtime, the anxiety returned full force, and he found himself praying to any god that existed or could hear him that he would come back to the shelter and find May there with some excuse about her absence that they would laugh about over cheap Thai food that night. 

Instead, he came home to an empty room and knew that it was time to call in reinforcements. 

“Hey, Spiderkid. What’s up?”

Peter took a deep breath. “I need your help. May’s missing.”

“What?” Peter heard a crash and quick footsteps. “What happened? Where are you now?”

“I’m…” He realized that he hadn’t thought this far ahead. “I’m at the library. She didn’t come home yesterday after her int-her date. And I’m really freaked out, Mr. Stark, I don’t know what to do, she didn’t show up on any scans-”

“Hey, Peter, take a deep breath for me, okay?” Tony said calmly, the sound of him suiting up in the background slightly soothing Peter’s frayed nerves. “I’m on my way. Will you stay on the line with me?”

…………

Peter had swung to the library as fast as he could, arriving only a minute before Tony, who landed on the roof in front of him and exited the suit, pulling Peter into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Peter mumbled into the front of Tony’s t-shirt, wrapping his arms around his mentor and letting his head rest on his chest. “I’m really scared, Tony.”

“It’s okay. Peter, we’re going to find her,” Tony said, squeezing Peter tightly before pulling back and meeting his gaze with reassurance. “Can you tell me a little more about this date she had?”

“I, uh…” Peter trailed off, biting his lip. “I don’t really know anything about it. She, um, she didn’t mention any details.”

“Okay. FRIDAY, do a scan of some of the restaurants in the area and pull a list of men she might have been seeing,” Tony said quickly, and Peter felt his heart drop. “Hmm…there were a few places with women matching her description-do any of these names sound familiar? Jeffrey Souge, Matthew Lewis, Andrew Christensen-”

“No!” Peter exclaimed, and then hesitated. “I mean, maybe? I’m not sure. Um, sorry. I just…”

Tony frowned, looking confused. “What? Peter, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Peter said defensively. “I just don’t know any of them! I don’t know…I don’t know anything, okay?”

Tony sighed and fixed Peter with a sympathetic look. “Pete, I know this is stressful. But I can’t help you unless you’re honest about what’s going on in your head, okay?”

Peter took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, I’m really sorry. I kind of lied a little about the date thing. I, uh, I was a little ashamed but it’s okay! I’m really sorry, Mr. Stark-”

“Ashamed?” Tony said, suddenly looking worried. “Peter, what happened? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Peter said miserably. He was messing this up more than he’d thought possible. “I just…I don’t want you to think any less of me and it was stupid that I didn’t just say anything already-”

“Kinda freaking me out here, kid,” Tony said with a nervous laugh. “What’s going on?”

“Aunt May had an interview yesterday,” Peter said, his gaze trained on the ground, “for a job that pays more money than her old-her other one. It’s-we’ve kind of been…struggling.”

Tony paused for a moment, then spoke in a very soft voice. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Peter. Not at all.”

Peter nodded, just once, his heart clenching. He found himself unable to speak through the ball of guilt in his throat at the half-truth he’d just told his mentor.

“Do you know what company the interview was with?” Tony asked.

“I…it was a nursing position,” Peter replied, scrunching his brow as he tried to remember anything that May might have mentioned to him about the interview. “It was a…like, a smaller organization? Maybe, like, one that does really individual stuff?”

“Hospice care?” Tony pressed. “Disability care? What are we talking here?”

“Something like that, I think,” Peter said. Then, a name came to his mind. “Oh! I think it might have been…harbor? Something Harbor Care?”

“Results in a ten mile radius of Peter’s home location are Misty Harbor Hospice, Wind Harbor Nursing Home, Quiet Harbor Halfway House-”

“That’s it!” Peter exclaimed. “Quiet Harbor. I’m…well, I’m 98% sure that’s it. I sort of remember her mentioning it.”

“Okay. I’m going to go take a look around, all right?” Tony’s voice was muffled by the Iron Man mask clicking into place. 

“What? No, I’m going with you!” Peter insisted, pulling his mask over his head.

“Peter, no,” Tony said firmly, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Listen to me; go home, okay? You look like you haven’t slept all night. Go home, get some rest, and I promise I will call you the moment I find anything, okay?”

Peter was about to protest, but Tony shushed him.

“You know that I’ll do everything I can to find May,” he said quietly. 

Peter took a long breath, then gave a jerky nod. “Call me. For anything. Please.”

Then, he flipped backwards off the building, watching the pavement speed up to meet him before he shot a web and swung away.

……….

When Peter returned, he was greeted by Lucy, the woman who ran the homeless shelter, standing outside his and May’s door; and, the news that if May didn’t return in twenty-four hours, Lucy would have to call CPS.

“I like you, Peter, and I know May adores you,” Lucy said, her voice friendly but firm, “but you are still a child, and the law in this state mandates that if you’re an unaccompanied minor in a homeless shelter for more than forty-eight hours, I’m required to inform child protective services.”

She had apologized several times and Peter had waved them all away, assuring her that May would return well before then with a good explanation for why she had been gone.

When Peter shut the door, he found himself hyperventilating, a panic attack threatening to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t go into the system.

He’d heard so many horror stories of the system. Of the kids that Ned’s family had fostered, who had been beaten and assaulted their entire lives. Of Clint and his brother Barney and their vanishing act to the circus after too many years of abuse. Of MJ’s cousin, who had gone into the system and hadn’t come out, committing suicide at fifteen years old.

And, there was no way that he would still be allowed to see Tony and the rest of the Avengers.

Peter grabbed his backpack from the floor and opened the small closet where he and May kept all of their most important belongings. He carefully selected only the essentials, packing them into the backpack like a jigsaw puzzle. 

Night was beginning to fall outside the third story window as he pulled a pair of dark jeans, a t-shirt, a hoodie, and a flannel over the suit, stuffing the mask into the inside pocket of the hoodie. It was only once he shut the window behind him with a click and swung silently to the ground below that he realized he had no idea where to go.

After swinging around covertly for awhile, Peter found an unused alley with a large roof overhanging it and a dumpster blocking the front. He pulled the sleeping bag from where it had been strapped to his backpack, unrolling it onto a stack of cardboard and crawling inside, clutching the straps of his backpack with his arms.

Only then did he let himself cry, silently, into the back of it. His tears soaked the thick blue fabric, running down his chin and onto his white shirt.

At that moment, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out and answered eagerly, hoping for good news. 

“Hi, kid,” Tony said, and his voice was decidedly not a good news voice.

“Did you find her?” Peter asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking and pretending that he had any hope left.

“I…” Tony let out a long breath. “No. Not yet. There’s not a single trace of her here, Pete.”

Peter’s heart dropped into his feet. “Oh.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Tony said softly. “I promise, we’re going to find her. There’s got to be a trail somewhere, okay? We’ll find it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Peter replied, trying to sound uplifted. Car tires screeched on the street opposite him, a horn going off loudly, and   
Peter winced, knowing what was coming.

“Peter? You’re not patrolling right now, are you?” Tony’s voice held no judgment, but Peter could tell he was worried.

“No! No, definitely not,” Peter said quickly. “I just-my window’s open, at the apartment, and there’s a guy down there not following the laws of traffic and whatnot.”

“Don’t remember the last time you used the word ‘whatnot’, but I will choose to take that on good faith,” Tony said, a gentle warning in his voice. “Are you okay at the apartment alone? Do you want to come stay the night at the tower?”

Peter wanted to so bad. He wanted it more than anything.

“No. No, I’m…I’m okay here.” Even as he said the words, he regretted them. There was a voice screaming in the back of his mind to just tell Tony, to just confess that he was homeless, that he had been for nearly two months. 

An even louder voice told him how ashamed Tony would be that Spider-Man couldn’t even keep a roof over his own head, much less his aunt’s. 

“Okay,” Tony said, sounding like he didn’t much believe him. “If you need me, though, I’m only a call away, bud. I don’t care what time it is, I’ll fly out and get you the moment you say the word.”

“Okay,” Peter whispered, not trusting his voice to stay steady. “Thanks, Tony.”

“I’m going to do a little more research on Quiet Harbor and I’ll tell you if I find anything,” Tony said reassuringly. “Goodnight, Pete.”

Peter didn’t respond, staying on the line until he heard the quiet click.

He was alone.


	3. Chapter 3

It was one week before May was officially a missing persons case in the eyes of New York City.

It was two weeks, though, before Tony started to wonder if he’d made a foolish promise to Peter that he could find May.

At 11pm on a Friday night, Tony was threading his hands through his hair, frustration in his every nerve.

He couldn’t find a single thing.

The kid had been keeping his distance, and Tony assumed it was the trauma of having both of his parents missing. He’d been texting Peter every day, and Peter had been texting back, so he knew the kid was okay. But, if May was still missing at the three-week mark…

Tony knew he’d have to initiate protocol Spiderbaby.

It wasn’t a protocol that was ever meant to be enacted. It was one that Tony had built on a Saturday at 3am after a close shave in which Peter and May were nearly in a terrible car accident. They had walked away with just a fender bender, but Peter had described it to Tony, and the night following had seen Tony experiencing a terrible nightmare in which May had died and Peter had disappeared, having nowhere to go and no one to take care of him.

Tony couldn’t let that happen. And thus, the Spiderbaby protocol had been born. In the event that May were to pass away, become gravely injured, or be otherwise unable to take care of Peter for more than three weeks, Tony had everything from temporary guardianship papers to Peter’s favorite brand of deodorant.

Peter wouldn’t be left alone. Not on Tony’s watch.

…………

Peter had never felt so alone in his life.

Homelessness was tough. He’d known that; May had instilled in him a vast respect and empathy for people who didn’t have places to live. The sleeping without a mattress on any flat surface, the lack of bathing facilities, the cold and the damp and the sense that closing his eyes meant opening himself up to any number of dangerous situations; it was all overwhelming.

Still, though, Peter had never taken into account how lonely he would be. He’d begun wearing the mask every night before he slept, just so that he could speak to Karen.

“Peter.”

Peter felt himself shake awake from sleep. “Huh? Wha?”

“It is very cold out tonight.” Karen’s soft voice echoed in his ears and he realized that he’d fallen asleep with the mask on.

“Yeah, I know,” Peter replied, pulling his flannel and hoodie tighter around himself. After two and a half weeks, they were starting to show the signs of wear and tear, stains and holes in various places across the fabric. He would need to find a warmer coat soon, especially as the temperatures began to drop in the approaching weeks. He supposed he could use some of the emergency food money he’d been holding onto, but that would lessen the amount of time he could survive out on the street. As it was, he’d only been eating one meal a day, and had lost a significant amount of weight. He had decided not to think about that, though; it was a problem for future Peter.

 _If future Peter isn’t dead from cold and starvation_ , he thought bitterly.

“Peter. Are you still awake?”

He shook his head out of his reverie. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry, Karen. What were you saying?”

“Peter, it is nearing thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit.” Karen was an AI, Peter reminded himself when he thought he heard a note of concern in her voice. “That is too cold a temperature for you to be sleeping outdoors. You could be at risk of frostbite and hypothermia if the temperature decreases anymore.”

“I would go to the Hilton, but I don’t think they’ll let me in looking like this,” Peter joked, though it fell flat when his body was wracked with a full shiver. A light drizzle was beginning to fall, pattering on the ground just beyond the edge of the roof that his sleeping bag was tucked under.

“Would you like me to notify Mr. Stark, Peter?” Karen asked gently.

“No! Karen,” Peter said, frustration seeping into his voice. They’d already had this conversation before when he’d accidentally revealed to Karen that he was homeless one lonely night, “I don’t want to bother him. I can handle this. I’m an adult.”

“You are fifteen, Peter,” Karen reminded him. “In the eyes of New York, you are still a minor. And, regardless of your age, you deserve to be resting in a safe space.”

Peter felt his eyes prick with tears. “I don’t deserve anything.”

“Why do you think that?” Karen asked.

“I…I just don’t. Ben died because of me,” Peter whispered hoarsely, “and now May is gone, too, and I didn’t do anything about it.”

“That is not true,” Karen replied mildly. “You have been searching for May Parker every day since her disappearance.”

Tears were streaming from Peter’s eyes now, dampening the front of his mask. Another full body shiver wracked through his thin frame as the rain began to pour next to him, a puddle seeping into the edges of his sleeping bag. Numbness began in his toes and fingers and traveled up his arms, panic bathing his brain as he hyperventilated.

 _Peter_ , Karen was saying somewhere in the background, _you are hyperventilating._

The sound of his heartbeat, rapid-fire like gunshots, filled his ears, and he rolled onto his front, propping himself up on his elbows in the soaked material of his sleeping bag. His chest ached as he struggled to pull air into his lungs. Black spots shifted at the edge of his vision, moving threateningly towards the center of his eyes. He struggled upwards, shifting to his knees with the soaked sleeping bag still wrapped around him.

 _You are dangerously close to unconsciousness, Peter_ , Karen said, and her voice sounded far away and funny, like she was scared. _Please allow me to contact Mr. Stark. You are unwell._

Peter pitched forward, landing face first in the growing puddle. His last sensation was of water filling his nostrils and the quiet sound of rain fading into the background as the world disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

“Sir, you have an incoming call from Peter Parker.”

Tony smiled. He hadn’t heard the kid’s voice in weeks; a call was more than welcome. “Answer, FRIDAY.”

“Mr. Stark, Peter is currently unconscious.” Karen’s voice came over the line, and while Tony knew that he had programmed his AIs to feel like real human interfacing, his heart stuttered at the raw concern in her voice. “He is in need of immediate assistance.”

“Where is he, Karen?” Tony said quickly, smacking his watch and walking towards the nearest window as the Iron Man suit formed around him.

“He is in an alleyway adjacent to Formier Street,” Karen replied. “He is face down in a growing mass of water and is unable to breathe properly.”

“Shit,” Tony breathed out as he threw himself off the building, the faceplate clicking into place as the thrusters took him out over the city, rain splattering over the smooth iron.

“Route to Formier Street, sir.” FRIDAY lit up a path on his HUD.

“That’s a bad part of Queens, Karen,” Tony said, forcing his tone to be conversational as his heart pounded. “What happened?”

“Peter experienced a panic attack of severe intensity,” Karen said. “He fell unconscious as a result.”

“Fuck. Okay. FRIDAY, give me 95% power, please.” Tony could see Formier in the distance through the rain, and as he approached he saw a small figure huddled on their front in a puddle.

He landed abruptly and ran over to Peter, retracting his face plate. “Pete! Shit!”

He pulled the kid out of the puddle and yanked the mask off. Peter’s lips were blue, his face stark white in comparison, and Tony began to panic. “FRIDAY, vitals!”

“I can’t get a read, boss,” FRIDAY said, staring to sound frantic, “His pulse is barely there.”

“Pete,” Tony begged, shaking the kid and rubbing his chest. “Come on, buddy. Wake up, please. I need you to wake up.”

For a few terrifying moments, Tony thought he wasn’t going to.

Then, Peter let out a hoarse cough and turned in Tony’s arms, vomiting up bile-tinted water onto the ground. Tony let out the breath he’d been holding and rubbed Peter’s back as he coughed up all the water. “That’s it. Get it out. You’re okay, Peter, I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“Tony?” Peter coughed, his voice thready. “Why’re…what’re you-what’re you doing…you’re here? Why…why are you here?”

“Karen called me,” Tony said, and he couldn’t help that his voice shook on the sentence that followed. “She said you’d passed out and couldn’t breathe.”

“Shit,” Peter breathed. He still looked so pale. “I don’t…I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble-”

“Peter, no, Jesus,” Tony protested, and couldn’t help himself suddenly; he pulled the kid into a tight hug, stroking his hair. Peter was stiff in his arms for a moment, then relaxed, his head drooping onto Tony’s shoulder. “I will always come when you’re in trouble, kid. I love you.”

“Thanks…thanks, Mr. Stark…” Peter said faintly. Tony felt his heart drop when the kid went limp against his shoulder. “FRIDAY? Vitals?”

“He’s okay, boss,” FRIDAY said reassuringly. “He’s just asleep.” Her voice became more troubled in the words that followed, however. “However, he appears to be displaying symptoms of extreme exhaustion, not to mention malnutrition and some sort of sickness, possibly early stage pneumonia.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck-this is all my fault. I should never have left him alone! I’m a fucking dumbass-”

“Boss, may I recommend getting him back to the tower?” FRIDAY said hesitantly. “He’s in urgent need of rest and nutrients.”

“Shit, yes.” Tony quickly gathered Peter into his arms before noticing the sleeping bag and backpack lying nearby. He felt his heart drop again when a quiet idea started whispering in the back of his head. “FRIDAY, can you connect with Karen?”

“Mr. Stark?” Karen’s voice seemed much less panicked now that Peter was in Tony’s arms.

“Karen, has Peter…” Tony trailed off, unsure how to ask. “Where has Peter been staying while May’s…while May’s been gone?”

“Peter has been living in this alleyway,” Karen replied. “The backpack and sleeping bag belong to him.”

Tony bit back a harsh curse. “Karen, we’ll be having words later about your protocols and what ‘take care of Peter’ means, okay?”

Karen didn’t respond, and Tony couldn’t blame her. He didn’t want to be mad at Karen; in fact, he couldn’t really be, since she was the reason Peter hadn’t drowned in three inches of water. But he wanted to be mad at somebody.

His kid had been homeless for weeks, and he needed somebody to blame, because Tony couldn’t help but feel that the blame ultimately rested with him.

…………

When Peter woke up, the first thing he noticed was the overwhelming light.

He squinted, trying to focus his eyes. He was lying on something soft and warm; he clenched his fingers gently around the material, feeling it brush against his skin and ground him more firmly in the present. As his eyes gradually became used to the brightness surrounding him, he recognized his surroundings and was filled with confusion.

He was in Tony’s bedroom.

Peter had only ever been in Tony’s room once before. One early morning, he’d been sent there by Tony to get his phone while the grumpy mechanic had poured himself his first cup of coffee. It was, admittedly, not what Peter had expected from the persona Tony delivered to the outside world; but he’d known Tony long enough to know that media Tony and real Tony were vastly different people.

The light was coming from the window-covered wall to his right, the sun shining warmly over a stunning view of the city outside the tower. The room was paneled with mahogany, dark blues and reds accenting the honey-colored wood. There was a comfy-looking, overstuffed chair and ottoman in the corner, next to a bookshelf full of titles that Peter never would have expected. Various other furnishings were spread across the room, but Peter lost track of his exploration when his eyes landed on Tony, sleeping in a sitting position on the other side of the vast bed that Peter was currently in.

 _Mr. Stark_ , Peter tried to say, but a hacking cough came out instead and Tony’s eyes flew open.

“Peter,” he breathed, and leaned forward, but hesitated there, in the space between them. “How are you feeling, bud?”

Peter opened his mouth and abruptly realized he had no idea what to say. He coughed again and Tony turned away, grabbing him a full water bottle from the stand.

“Here,” he said quietly, uncapping it and holding it out. “You must be thirsty. You slept for nearly fifteen hours.”

“Jesus,” Peter said hoarsely, and chugged some of the water before Tony snatched the bottle from his grasp.

“Don’t make yourself sick,” Tony said apologetically. “You can have some more in a little bit. First,” he shifted himself, and Peter could see the long breath rise and fall in his chest before he spoke, “we’re going to talk about why you’ve been living in the gutters of Queens for the last couple weeks.”

Peter bit his lip, his eyes closing. This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted. Tony was disappointed in him. Tony was disappointed, and now he was going to kick Peter out once he found out what had really happened. Peter was going to lose the one person who was still there, the one person who he’d thought he could rely on. The one person he loved almost as much as he’d loved May, and he’d already lost her. He couldn’t lose anyone else.

“-eter? Peter, hey, take a breath, okay?” Peter opened his eyes, sucking in a sudden breath and seeing Tony sitting in front of him, looking deeply concerned. “Peter, breathe with me. Long one in. Long one out. Yep. Let’s just breathe for a minute, yeah?”

Peter nodded, focusing on slowing his breathing to a normal rate and lessening the haywire panic that was currently gripping his chest like a vise. After several deep breaths, he finally found his voice, though it was none too steady.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He was so hoarse. Every word felt like sandpaper against his throat. “I…I thought you would hate me.”

Tony frowned. “Pete, I-first of all, I could never hate you. Okay? Just gonna get that out there right away. There is nothing in this world you could do that would make me hate you. I lo-I care about you, kid, and that will never change.”

Peter nodded, not trusting himself to speak as his eyes began to water.

“Second,” and Tony’s voice became hesitant again, the mechanic sounding deeply unsure of himself, “why exactly did you think that I would?”

“May and I, we-May lost her job.” They weren’t words that Peter had spoken out loud before, and just saying them made tears stream down his face. “We’d been living at-at the shelter for a month-little over a month, when she went missing. She was trying to find a new one, Mr. Stark, she was trying so hard, and then she went missing and I didn’t know what to do, and I was afraid if you knew how little I’d done to help her-”

“Peter,” Tony whispered, his voice sounding wrecked, and he pulled Peter into his side, letting his head rest on his shoulder and stroking a slightly shaky hand through his messy brown curls. “Christ. Peter, I…why didn’t you-no, that’s not important right now.” Tony rubbed his shoulder, and the contact only made Peter cry harder. “Peter, I am so sorry.”

“I’m sorry-I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter sobbed into his shoulder, dampening the material of his AC/DC t-shirt and feeling as though the last pieces of his world, a world that had crumbled so quickly over the last month and a half, were falling away. “I should have-I wanted to tell you, I did. I was just-I was so afraid that you were going to blame me and that I would lose you, too. I can’t-I lost Ben, I lost May, and it’s all my fault, and I can’t…” Peter sucked in a breath as Tony rubbed his back and angrily swiped a hand across the tears on his cheeks. “I can’t lose you, too. I can’t.”

“You aren’t going to lose me,” Tony said firmly, “not ever. You understand?”

Peter nodded miserably, rubbing his swollen eyes with the palms of his hands. He sniffled in the silence for a few minutes before Tony finally spoke, his voice impossibly soft.

“Peter, I need you to know that I…that I love you,” Tony faltered slightly, and Peter knew it was the intensity of the emotion. Tony did not handle serious emotion well, a fact that Peter had come to know through the mechanic’s constant quips and deflections. The weight of it sunk into Peter’s bones like warm water.

“And, Peter…” Here, Tony hesitated, and Peter began to feel trepidation, but the words that followed only reassured him more. “You will always have a home. Whether it’s here with me, or, when we find May-and I say when, because we will-at an apartment of your own. She will always have a job with Stark Industries. Peter,” Tony pulled him even closer, speaking the next words into his hair, “you will always be taken care of. Always. You are my kid, and I love you.”

Peter felt overwhelmed with the offer. He had no idea what to say in response. He leaned, boneless, against Tony, his eyes growing heavy as sleep threatened to claim him again.

“Thank you,” he whispered ever so softly. “Tony. Thank you.”

“No, Pete,” Tony said, and the words floated somewhere above Peter’s head as he began to fall backwards into sleep. “Thank you.”


End file.
